Chapter 54 – A Line in the Sand

The flames crackled low in the study's hearth, casting flickering shadows across the room. Seraphina sat in Adrian's chair, her fingers tracing the spine of the ledger they had retrieved from Halvar. It sat open before her, the damning evidence inscribed in ink more dangerous than any blade.

She had sent for Edric. The rebellion was in motion, but it needed a final push—one that only Adrian and she could deliver. The city was simmering, tensions high, and Laurent's grasp on power was weakening. Yet, as much as their victory seemed within reach, she knew that one wrong move could unravel everything.

The door opened, and Edric strode in. His usual air of confident nonchalance was absent, replaced by quiet urgency.

"You sent for me?" he asked, stopping before the desk.

Seraphina closed the ledger with a deliberate motion. "It's time to accelerate our plans."

His sharp eyes flicked to hers. "Adrian agrees?"

She hesitated for only a moment. "He will."

Edric exhaled, folding his arms. "Laurent still has allies in the court. Some who fear him, others who owe him. If we move too soon—"

"If we don't move now, we risk him regaining ground," Seraphina interrupted, her voice steady. "The ledger gives us leverage, but leverage alone is not enough. We need chaos in the streets, unrest among the people. By the time Laurent realizes the walls are closing in, it will be too late."

A slow smile spread across Edric's face. "You sound more like Adrian every day."

She arched a brow. "I take that as a compliment."

He chuckled. "As you should." But then his expression turned serious. "What of Adrian? Where is he?"

Seraphina glanced at the clock. Adrian had left hours ago, and though she knew where he had gone, she wasn't certain in what state he would return. "Handling something personal."

Edric studied her for a moment, then nodded. "I assume you want the final stage ready by tomorrow night?"

"Yes," she confirmed. "Can you manage that?"

Edric's grin was sharp. "Consider it done."

With that, he turned and disappeared into the night, leaving Seraphina alone with the weight of what was to come.

Adrian returned just before dawn.

Seraphina had not slept. She sat in the dim glow of candlelight, a glass of untouched wine beside her, waiting.

The door creaked open, and Adrian stepped inside, his presence filling the room. He looked unchanged, yet something in his posture was different—tighter, more resolute. His cloak was damp from the night air, his gloves still on, but his eyes… his eyes were darker.

She rose. "Did you find what you were looking for?"

He did not answer immediately. Instead, he crossed the room, removing his gloves with slow precision before placing them on the table. Only then did he speak.

"I visited an old friend of my mother's." His voice was even, but she heard the weight beneath it. "Someone who remembered details that history tried to bury."

Seraphina remained still. "And?"

Adrian's jaw tightened. "Laurent's reach was deeper than we thought. He did not act alone."

A chill prickled down her spine. "Who else?"

He exhaled sharply, his hand pressing against the desk as if bracing himself. "There were three signatures on the payment that ensured Evelyne Valemont's death. Laurent's was only one of them."

Seraphina's heart pounded. "And the others?"

Adrian looked up then, his stormy gaze locking onto hers. "One belonged to my father."

The breath left her lungs.

His father. The late Duke Valemont. The man whose title Adrian now bore.

For a moment, the room was silent but for the distant crackling of the fire.

"And the third?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Adrian's lips pressed into a grim line. "King Aldric."

Seraphina swayed, catching herself against the edge of the desk. Laurent's corruption had always been insidious, but this—this reached into the very heart of the kingdom itself.

She searched Adrian's face, finding not shock, not disbelief, but something colder.

"So what do we do?" she asked finally.

Adrian's expression was unreadable. "We finish this war."

She stepped closer, laying a hand against his arm. He was rigid beneath her touch, his muscles taut with restrained fury.

"We're no longer just taking down Laurent," she murmured. "This is bigger."

His fingers curled against the wood. "Yes. It is."

And with that, a new battle had begun.